Tenney in the Key of Friendship

A Big Opportunity

Mom drives Tenney to Music Row the next day so she can play her latest songs for Zane at the Mockingbird Records office. Unlike the big labels with their tinted-window buildings, Mockingbird is a small independent label in a cheery brick Victorian row house. Its walls are hung with instruments from around the world, including an Australian didgeridoo, a Korean drum, and a Moroccan oud. Zane greets her at the door and guides her inside, where Portia is waiting with his niece, Ellie, the label’s A&R coordinator who discovered Tenney singing at Dad’s shop.

Settled on Zane’s leather couch, Tenney plays two slow ballads, “Good Morning, Glory” and “If You Come Home,” and gets only minor feedback. Then she plays her newest song, and Zane stops her after the first chorus. He tells her the melody is stronger than how she’s playing it. Portia agrees the tempo drags behind lyrics that are pointed and a little angry, and thinks the song wants to move faster. To prove it, she picks up her own guitar and plays Tenney’s song back to her from memory, fast. It barely sounds like the same song anymore. Ellie encourages Tenney to open her mind about the song instead of protecting it exactly as she wrote it.

Tenney’s mouth twists into a stubborn knot. She likes the song as it is and worries changing the tempo will make it stop feeling like hers. She thinks of Mom, who years before signed with a studio and cut a demo, only to have a producer try to change everything about her. He even wanted to change her hair color. Mom always said no one should feel pressured to change something they’re not comfortable with.

Zane tells her great songwriters don’t limit themselves to one kind of song, they let different music influence them. Ellie points to the Beatles, John Lennon and Paul McCartney, who couldn’t have written such different songs if they’d feared exploring new sounds. Tenney admits that she guesses that’s true, her voice flat as a pancake.

Zane reminds her that a singer-songwriter’s most important asset is a strong set, and their goal for the month is a solid half-hour show of original songs that all sound like Tenney while showing different sides of her. Then comes the real news: he’s working on booking her to play the welcome brunch that kicks off the annual City Music Festival. He tips his hat off his head and bounces it on his knee. Tenney’s stomach does a cartwheel picturing herself on the Ryman Auditorium stage, but Zane clarifies the festival itself only books artists with albums out. The brunch is still a big deal, though, since everyone who matters in Nashville’s music scene turns out for it. Tenney tells him yes, she’s definitely interested.

That night at dinner, Tenney can hardly focus, imagining herself as a rock star with five weeks to pull together a flawless set. Upstairs, with Waylon watching from the bed, she scribbles words from her session, feisty, driving, powerful, faster, and tries to rework her song into something punchier, growing more frustrated with each attempt. She tries playing it faster, but it doesn’t sound right.

Tenney is finally landing on a stronger chorus melody when Mom calls her to the phone. It’s Jaya, bursting with an idea for a book drive at the Magnolia Hills Spring Clean to raise money for Mina’s storm-damaged school, an idea she’s already run past Ms. Carter without checking with Tenney first. Distracted and hurt at being left out, Tenney only half-listens, then cuts the call short to get back to her melody.